Needed
by firesnap
Summary: Their last case brings an issue that Gwen has fiercely been avoiding to the front and center of her thoughts. Coda to the radio play 'The Devil & Miss Carew.'


**Author's Note**: So, my writing project for the next however long it takes, is to write a coda to all of the radio plays. I'm not doing them in any particular order, but I do have one for Submission already written. If anyone has another in particular they'd like me to do next, let me know. Sorry for the lack of beta.

Gwen rubbed her eyes with one hand and clicked save on the case report she'd been finishing. It'd been just six hours since Miss Carew had fallen to her death and, honestly, Gwen wasn't taking it as well as she should. It wasn't logical, and it made Gwen feel slightly mental, but the whole case had left a sour feeling in her stomach that she couldn't get rid of no matter what she tried. She knew the old woman had nearly handed the world over to some mysterious alien force. Gwen knew the woman had done it as part of bargain, to feel young again, and she'd threatened the existence of the entire world for entirely selfish reasons. That knowledge, and how close Miss Carew had come to finishing things, didn't change that a part of Gwen still felt _sorry _for the old lady. It wasn't even just sympathy, Gwen could empathize with Miss Carew - and that bit was more terrifying than anything else. She understood the lady's motive, and that made her death harder to handle. It was different when the casualty was a creature hell bent on destruction. Miss Carew hadn't wanted to harm anyone - not really. She'd just wanted to feel useful again and not tucked away, old and withered and forgotten, and Gwen was slowly discovering that it was far too easy to relate to that.

It seemed that after many near-death experiences, Miss Carew had finally been the wakeup call for Gwen on something that was easy to forget when she spent her days with a never aging immortal man and a baby-faced twenty-five year old. She was slowly aging. One day, like Miss Carew, she was going to be too old to hack it anymore and then… what? What purpose would she have? One day she'd lose Torchwood, she'd lose this huge part of how she defined herself, and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Time marched on and Gwen wasn't going to be able to get out of its way.

It was those types of thoughts that made the darker parts of Gwen's mind stir. Those dark parts of Gwen wondered what bargains she'd be willing to make when it got to that point. Fortunately, a more realistic part of her, one that sounded strangely like Ianto, reminded her that there are no Torchwood pensioners. Unfortunately, the Ianto in her head didn't do so well in the cheering up department.

Gwen clenched her eyes shut to force out all of the unpleasantness threatening to overwhelm her thoughts. She focused on the Hub noises around her to clear her mind. The sounds of the Hub in near-hibernation were soothing. Gone was the constant clamor she'd grown so attached to when Tosh and Owen were alive. The whole place had gotten noticeably quieter since then. It wasn't less busy, but it was so much more work for the three of them to fill the place with the noise and life like it'd been filled with before. It said something to how accustomed Gwen had grown to the new quiet when the soft click of Jack's office door opening and the following gentle wafting of jazz music was enough to make her jump a foot out of her chair.

Gwen spun around in her office chair to scowl at Jack as he chuckled at her flustered state. "That's not really nice, you know. You could give a girl a heart attack sneaking around like that," she snapped.

Jack raised his hands in apology. "Sorry," he smiled. "I thought I was alone." There was a pause and Jack leaned against the doorframe of his office and folded his arms across his chest to study Gwen. His braces were down around his waist, and enough buttons of his shirt were unclasped to reveal the white vest beneath. This was Jack Harkness After Hours. "Speaking of, why are you here? I thought everyone left an hour ago."

"I wanted to finish the report from this morning," Gwen answered. "Newport's playing tonight. Rhys and Ianto were shuffling about like they couldn't get out to a pub quick enough. I told them I'd meet them after."

Jack frowned at Gwen's explanation, and as was the case whenever he frowned at Gwen, she had to resist the urge to duck her head like a chastised child. He had that way about him. A frown or a small smile was all anyone ever needed to feel like they'd pleased or disappointed him. "Yeah, not that I'm against any new work ethic you're trying to impose on yourself, but that's not really like you."

Gwen focused all of the self-restraint she possessed into not snapping back at Jack that he didn't _know _what was really like her. She was edgy, moody from this morning, and that wasn't really Jack's fault. It was not Jack's fault that Gwen had stayed behind in the dark Hub instead of going out with Rhys and Ianto. It wasn't Jack's fault that she'd spend the day nearly suffocating in thoughts of being infirm and pointless. He definitely wasn't to blame for the sudden irrational anger Gwen had at the knowledge that he'd go on, young and flawless, while Gwen withered away. Gwen was, most of the time, a reasonable woman and she knew Jack couldn't help the fact that he'd have to watch her and Ianto die one day. It didn't make it easier though. When confronted with her own mortality, Jack Harkness wasn't really the person Gwen wanted to see. "I just needed to finish it," Gwen replied lamely as she stood. "I didn't want to think about it tomorrow, or know it was waiting on me."

Something flashed in Jack's eyes and his face softened. "Okay, I can get that," Jack conceded. He let his arms drop from their crossed position to dangle at his sides. "Come have a drink with me before you go." Gwen was so surprised by the sudden shift in conversation that she didn't answer at first. Jack didn't seem concerned. Instead, he hopped back to standing on his feet and waved Gwen toward the office when he noticed her continued hesitation. "They won't know you've been missing. I promise."

With a sigh, Gwen glanced at the cog door and back at Jack. His eyebrows were raised in what Ianto called his 'I swear I'll be good' expression and Gwen rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. She wanted to finish her work, get out of here and forget this day ever happened and, instead of that, she was trapped with a concerned looking Jack Harkness and no reasonable excuse to turn him down. "You're a terrible influence on me, you know that?" Gwen huffed as she headed toward Jack's office. Jack didn't respond, but he did have a bounce of victory to his step as he preceded Gwen into the dimly lit room.

Jack's office took on a different tone with only one small desk lamp illuminating it. Gone was the feeling of being in the boss's office, and instead, it felt like entering some older gentleman's study. A pile of novels were stacked near the sofa and Jack's coat hung from an antique looking stand like a retired solider. The room even felt warmer than it did during the day. If anything in the cold, damp Hub could come close to feeling cozy, Gwen had now seen it. As she closed the door, she noticed that there was a scattering of ancient vinyls across Jack's desk. The Jazz music she'd heard earlier continued to lazily fill the room with complex melodies and the cracks and pops of an old record player. Gwen settled into one of the overstuffed leather chairs across from Jack's desk that he claimed were for visitors (and really, what visitors did he get other than her or Ianto?) while Jack circled around and pulled out a crystal decanter of scotch and two glasses. He filled them both with a good measure of amber liquid and passed one to Gwen.

If Gwen hesitated before she took a sip of the liquid, it was only for a moment. She and Ianto had finished off a bottle of Jack's scotch while he'd been off battling Daleks, and the resulting hangover had made her leery of the stuff since. It burned, as she knew it would, but the overpowering notes of vanilla and smoke helped ease the journey down her throat. The chill Gwen had gotten from working out in the expansive main area of the Hub slowly dissipated. Gwen knew one of them should be talking, but she couldn't be bothered to figure out if he was supposed to be her sounding board tonight or she was there for him. She studied the way the lamp light hit the liquid and crystal of the glass, and then looked up at Jack. His eyes were partially closed and he hummed to the music while letting his tumbler dangle loosely from one hand. He looked so relaxed and normal. It was a part of him Gwen rarely saw and it made her heart swell. Seeing Jack drop his larger than life persona was like a gift that was meant to be coveted and guarded. This was the part of Jack that ended up being special to people. She suddenly hoped, deeply, that he realized that too. He lured people in with easy charm and flirtation, but his quieter moments - when his presence alone was enough to warm a person - was the part of him that made people stay. Jack was always at his best when he wasn't trying to impress anyone.

Gwen bit her lip and shook herself out of her hazy study of Jack Harkness At Ease. "Where'd all the records come from? Yours?"

Jack opened his eyes and nodded. "They are now. Ianto gathered them from that lair built for Fitzroy. He thought I might appreciate them more than the archives."

She remembered Ianto and Rhys going out with a lorry to the place Miss Carew and the others had prepared for the alien. It'd been filed with old junk, according to Rhys. They'd packed up anything that looked useful and then Ianto had locked the place up until they had a moment to catalogue it more. The thought of Ianto going through dusty piles of antiques and toss-aways to find a present for Jack made her smile. Ianto was as hopeless as she was, really.

"Why aren't you out with him?" Gwen asked a she took a larger sip. She hoped she had succeeded in keeping the grimace off her face as the bite of the alcohol hit her tongue.

Jack shrugged and waved his glass toward the record player. "Come on, what's a better night? Watching them drink and yell at a television; or some good scotch, better music and great company?" Jack winked and then leaned forward over the desk, as if he was about to share a secret. "Besides, I think it makes him uncomfortable when I go."

Instinctively, Gwen opened her mouth to contradict Jack and assure him that was definitely not the case. Their Ianto would always want Jack around. Then her mind caught up with her mouth and she pictured Ianto and Rhys, sitting and trying to watch the television and have a drink, while Jack made lewd comments about the players and tried to rub Ianto's thigh under the table. Oh. Not really what most people expected while watching a match. She closed her mouth and looked at Jack helplessly before finally taking another drink to hide her discomfort. "Well, I'm sure you'll see him later."

Jack laughed and his tumbler clanked down onto the desk. "Oh yeah," he said with a mischievous glint to his eyes. "I'll get all of the benefits of him having a few pints without having to deal with you Welsh and your sports."

Gwen shook her head. "Awful. Both of you."

Jack merely shrugged in response and then popped up from his chair and rounded about the desk to offer his hand to Gwen. "Dance with me?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, considering the situation and Jack's open and sincere expression beaming down on her, before nodding and placing her smaller hand in his. Everything about them contrasted in that moment. Her pale skin against his naturally tanned tone, her small and soft looking fingers held in his larger, rough ones. He gently squeezed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Gwen's face flushed when the heat of Jack's touch fell upon her hip. Their fingers intertwined and Gwen's free hand gripped Jack's dark blue shirt as they swayed to the slower, soulful music that filled the room.

Gwen was just starting to relax against Jack's chest when Jack spoke again. "Going to tell me what's bothering you, yet?"

She pulled back slightly and glared. "What makes you think anything is bothering me?"

Jack shrugged. "You're here, and you were doing work instead of going out. And," he ducked his head next to her ear. "I know you, Gwen Cooper. You're upset about something." Gwen shivered and felt her skin tingle where Jack's moist breath had hit. She debated, silently, whether it was worth unloading all of her insecurities on Jack. He'd done it to her before, and her to him, but it felt different when it was a problem that he may never be forced to experience. It partly felt like he wouldn't be able to give any useful advice, and partly like it was rude to shove it in his face that her issue wouldn't be a concern of his for a long, long time. She sighed and felt her resolve melt away as she laid her head back on Jack's chest. He wanted to know.

"That woman, Miss Carew," Gwen whispered. "I… get why she did it, you know? Not that I would give the world to some alien ghost, but… I understand her." Jack said nothing, did nothing, other than move her to the music, but Gwen took that as encouragement to continue. "She didn't want to be useless," Gwen continued. "She watched herself grow old and unwanted-"

Jack's hand tightened on Gwen's hip. "Do you really think you'd ever be unwanted?"

"No, no I… don't know. I just know I'm getting older. I can already start to feel it. It's not as easy to get up in the morning. The hangovers last longer and - one day - I'm not going to be able to do this. Then what?"

"Then you do something else."

"And you'll go on without me."

Jack halted their dance. "I will," he confirmed. "I'll go on after you, and Ianto, and everyone else. But that's no reason you should stop. You'll get to grow old, maybe have a couple of kids - grandkids - and watch everyone fuss over you." Gwen laughed and Jack smiled back at her. "You'll be a great gran."

Gwen's laughter subsided and she buried her head in Jack's shirt. "Please, don't say that. I don't want to think of that." She paused. "I just know that somehow - either by dying or just time passing - I'll lose this. I don't want to, you know? I don't want everyone to forget me like they did her."

With a cluck of his tongue, Jack moved his hand from Gwen's hip and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. "Really, Gwen. You know better than this. You won't be like her. People... Rhys, Ianto need you. I need you. No one will tuck you away somewhere like that."

"You'll need me even when I can't chase a weevil? When I'm more wrinkles than anything else?"

Jack's palm slid up Gwen's jawline and cupped her cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "I'll find each wrinkle beautiful. I promise."

When Jack's hand drifted back to her shoulder Gwen released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. He was like a blanket, lulling her into a state of calm she hadn't experienced in what felt like weeks. She relaxed back against his strong form and said nothing. Jack hadn't soothed her fears because they were fears all mortals had. However, Jack had reminded her that there was no point, right then and there, in stopping everything just to worry about it.

When the record player clicked to a halt, they only paused for a moment. Gwen glanced toward the clock on Jack's desk. That match would probably be going for a while longer. As if having the same thought, Jack pulled her closer. They leaned against each other as if that was all that was holding them up and began to sway again. For this dance, Jack personally provided the music. As he hummed a new song - one just for Gwen – softly in her ear, Gwen found herself really not caring about wrinkles anymore.


End file.
